I had a dream last night you died. For some reason You and Charlotte and Dad and I were in Bangor and you were tracked down and terminated by an unseen dude driving a massive truck. Really massive. He drove the massive truck right into you at top speed and smashed you through a fence over into a car park below, presumably (judging by the resulting mess) ending his own life too. Maybe he was a robot? I don't know.

We were all very sad of course, but Dad said you had been prepared for this eventuality as you had sacrificed your life for the good of all and made yourself a target for the enemies of humanity.

It wasn't a happy dream but I remember Polish Greg saying that if somebody dreams your death it augurs good luck.

My early 20th Century dream book also concurs, stating that good news is on the way, though whether for you or I, I know not.

Glad times are just around the corner!

So, I had a grayte time at Example's video shoot down in Brickie yesterday. Especially ace to see Pro Green, who is a fucking lovely fellow, Disastronought, and the Why Lout? boys. I almost didn't recognise Pixel, whose new fitness and stepping-out-the-front-door-regular regime has lead to the mots dramatic weight loss in a human I have ever seen outside of women's magazine's in the doctors. Dude looks awesome. he has a fucking 1950's yankee Batman jaw! And he's making pop music. I am mad excited about that. I love Pixel's music, whether he's being brainy, hardcore, emo, whatever. but pop music, that's my bag baby. Pixelated pop music. Sheeet.

I'm off into town AGAIN now (some kind of fucking record, I swear), to attend the first major meeting of the Featured Artists Coalition. I shall let you know what I think tomorrow.